Coming home

BARCELONA—It has been almost three months. I have been to three countries other than Spain and I have been to nine different cities besides Barcelona. I have a camera full of pictures, a blog full of memories and a diminishing closet.

At the beginning of my trip, I was anxious about adjusting to the change of scenery, people, language, culture, and distance from home, but now I have a growing pit in my stomach about coming home.

I applied for a semester abroad for many reasons. Many of my friends were going to be abroad, my parents wanted me to have the experience, I had never been to Europe and upperclassmen had recommended it to me, but most of all, I wanted a change and wanted to put myself in a completely new environment.

Each of these reasons I could easily check off my list. To say I am satisfied with my experience would be an understatement. I walked through the Coliseum, explored art in the Louvre, toured the Vatican, hiked Montserrat, wandered through Park Guell, ate authentic Spanish and Italian food, and I still have more time to explore during my final days abroad.

Despite my satisfaction and all I have done, I am not looking forward to leaving my new friends, new home, and Barcelona — a city I have come to love. Thinking about leaving Barcelona is making more anxious than I was coming here. Everyone who studies abroad says you will never want to leave, and I never believed them until now.

Leaving Elon for a semester was difficult. It has become in some aspects more of a home to me than where I live, but this semester in Europe has showed me how much left I still have to explore.